Golden child
by Narnia-Fan7
Summary: Peter/Susan. After a particularly daunting night, Susan has found herself bedded with her brother.
1. The Dinner

**NOTE:** This is my first fic. Peter/Susan. Don't like? Not my problem. Read at your own risk. I don't own anything associated with Narnia, nor am I making any money off of this story (*sobs 'cause I'm poor*). Contains an adult scene. You have been warned. This detours from the original plot (obviously) and I have decided that in this fic, the children would be more spaced out. While Lucy is 6 when they entered Narnia, Edmund was 11 rather than 10, and Peter and Susan 15 and 14 respectively rather than 13 and 12.

 **Part 1**

 **Susan's POV**

"Why do we have to do these royal engagements? They're sooooo boring," I hear Lucy whisper loudly to me. "I mean, can we not just send them a gift of good will? It works for me."

I smile down toward the blossoming girl I call my sister. It was hard to believe that only five years ago we had stumbled across Narnia. I looked across the grand dining table (for what gathering was complete without food and drink?) toward my brothers. Shortly after arriving they had dove head long into politics, foreign affairs, trading policies, and goodness knows what else. Edmund had taken hotly to the conversation, his hands waving, head bobbing. The light glanced off battle scars that marred his head; anger flashed in his eyes. Peter had taken a lesser role in these debates, as per his usual tactics. He looked bored, but then again, Peter always looked bored, like nothing could ever hold his attention. I gestured for the second course to be brought out, nodding subtly toward the minotaur who had set himself over the strong drinks. This was going to be a long night.

 **Peter's POV**

I turned away, snatching up my leg of mutton as the second course was paraded out. How dare guests at my own table demand such things?! How dare these dignitaries from other places demand I go to war?! So what if there were two headed giants making another stir about Jadis in the North? Was this not Ettinsmoor's problem? Why should we risk the peace that Narnia had only just earned? And for what- foreign relations! I glared into space, noting how Susan nodded toward Alceo, a minotaur who had surrendered and joined our ranks shortly after that first battle. He plowed toward the liquor storage, while I prayed he brought something, anything stronger than the beer-water that was normally served at these occasions; this was going to be a long night.

 **Edmund's POV**

Peter was Drunk. Railing drunk! I looked at him with disgust as he drained his fourth tankard of mead. On top of his first tankard of beer. He had left the discussion of the giant problem long ago, leaving me to come to an actual bonafide solution. Turning toward the dignitaries, I made my final offer, "I will send no more than a Regiment. If you think my generals so incompetent, either I or King Peter shall go; we shall discuss this and send word. Leave us in the morning, and go give word to your commanders. We shall send word in no later than 3 months, so as to discuss tactics and theories. Leave us."

I turned looking toward the windows only to realize that they had been covered so the draught of rain water would not cover the dining hall, so I turned back toward the table. The only people still seated were the four of us. Lucy was asleep; I believe her head rested in her stew bowl. She must have dozed off shortly after the second course. Susan was giggling and hanging onto one of the servers, which was odd, because I never considered any of the dryads to be particularly funny. Peter was glassy eyed and staring at nothing. I knew that only when we had left would the ever humble creatures who had been hired to work at Cair Paravel come and eat themselves, so I started the ever so cumbersome task of removing my siblings from the table.

 **Susan's POV**

My head was fuzzy. Everything looked off, almost like it wasn't quite there. The candles glowed brighter; the colors around me were bolder, and diffusing into the air. Everything was hilarious. Peter looked like a giant puppet- arms limp, glassy eyed, head sagging in a permanent stare- Edmund an angry cartoon character. Lucy was asleep in her soup; what a day she would have washing that out tomorrow! Edmund suddenly rose from his chair. "Come, I'll take Lucy and escort you to your chambers. We shall put Lucy down first; then we shall take you, Susan, to your rooms; lastly Peter, I shall take you back across the wing to our halls. Don't stumble over yourselves and fall. The last thing I need to deal with tonight is either one of you with a head injury."

I felt indignation rise within me. Does he suddenly believe he is my elder that he might be able to tell me what to do? Does he think me so incompetent that I could not walk to my chambers? I mean, I knew I couldn't very well carry Lucy, but I couldn't do that this morning either. "No. You take Lucy, I can handle moving Peter to his chambers. I've done it before, Edmund; it isn't hard." I stared at him with the best glare I could manage until he conceded.

 **Peter's POV**

I felt hands on my waist. Looking around I suddenly realized Susan and I were the last two in the hall. "Peter you need to go to bed. Tomorrow we have to see the guests off, and you cannot do that asleep." I lurch and nod at her reasoning, letting her steer me toward the hall on the right. Suddenly I hear the thunder boom. I catch my head- Oh! My aching head! - The noise is deafening. We stumble our way along toward my chambers. The upper hall windows had yet to be tacked down. We're just outside my doors when another deafening boom resounds, followed immediately by a curtain of lightning that strikes the ground. Susan stumbles into me. "Peter, I'm scared"-

 _***Suddenly I'm no longer in my castle; no longer a Narnian at all, just a boy, his sister clutching to him. "Peter, I'm scared."_

 _"Lightning isn't scary, Sue; God's just takin' pictures, smile big!" the small child parroted what he had heard._

 _"But Peter, I'm_ scared _." Susan cried._

 _"Come on Sue, you can sleep with me." he replied. ***_

"Come on, Sue; you can sleep with me," the king replied.

 **Susan's POV**

The lightning broke out after the thunder, stretching it's tendrils out, searching for something to hurt, and striking the ground. Suddenly, I didn't feel so grown. I didn't want to be in charge. I wanted to be comforted, instead of the one giving comfort. "Peter, I'm scared," I say with tears.

"Come on, Sue; you can sleep with me," Peter replied, wrapping his arm around my trembling shoulders. The back of my mind was saying something- the last rational part of me, I know- it screamed, but through the haze, I heard nothing. As we entered Peter's bed chambers, he shed his clothing until there was nothing left. It wasn't as if Peter never did such; of course he never wore anything to sleep in the summers- at the castle or otherwise, had always been that way, rain or shine, in a tent, under the stars- but it was startling to see just how grown my brother had become.

"Come on, Sue," he breathed, holding out the bed sheet for me, stirring memories long forgotten. I shed my clothes and climbed under the sheet. A chill ran down my spine as my back bumped him. Or rather a part of him, for it stuck out further than the rest. A groan left his throat, sending a wave of pleasure through my inebriated body. And suddenly I was under him, moving to the tempo he set, breathing hard, seeking release from both pain and angst. And there it was one spurt, two. Over in a wave of heat, I fell asleep breathing hard.

 **Peter's POV**

I woke with a splitting head ache, the sun shining through the curtains, my door being beaten in two. "Peter you are late!" Edmund roared through the lock hole, "We are to see the dignitaries off in five minutes, you have three to be at the dock!"

I jumped. The dignitaries! The delegations! I could remember nothing. I hardly remembered asking for that second tankard of mead. Suddenly something stirred beside me. Startled, I looked over, holding my head as my eyes debated whether or not they'd follow. Confused, I looked down to see a human form. As the form pulled the sheet from over its head, I see I am staring agape at my sister. What happened last night?

Shaking my head, I waved my hand as my answer to the question she voiced straight from my own thoughts. I couldn't remember last night, but I knew this morning I had no time to think- I had to get to the docks. I voice such thoughts to her as I start to jump up and find clothes. Suddenly I realize I cannot stand up, for fear of being so exposed to my little sister, who surely knows nothing of such things as what happen to men in the morning. Instead I echo the matter Edmund brought so loudly to my door this morning. "We're late for the dignitaries send off."

 **Susan's POV**

When Peter refused to get up, I panicked. I couldn't stand, let alone leave, in such a compromising position. I could not wander back to my chambers nude, but I could not wear the same dress I had worn the previous day, for then everyone would know something was amiss. So we sat there, terrified. "Peter, you need to go." I murmured. He nodded. "I shall close my eyes as you get dressed, and then hand me my petticoats; I shall take the servant's stairs back toward my chambers and meet the three of you as soon as possible at the docks." At his second assenting nod, I closed my eyes until he touched my shoulder. He met my eyes as he handed me my undergarments, which somehow impossibly had lain on the floor all night, meeting my own questioning eyes with a whole new world of emotion. I quickly took my clothing and looked away "Thank you, Peter," I give him leave before he turns toward the door, sprinting toward the docks.

I struggle quickly and impatiently into my clothing, and then pull the large tapestry to the side, revealing a stair case. I quickly run down the stairs, finding my way to my own chambers and, thanks be to Aslan, do not run into any servants on the stairs (neither literally nor metaphorically). I throw on the first dress my hands touch- a gaudy yellow that Lucy had made to "match" her own- and sprint out the door toward the docks, forgetting my shoes (who cares when my feet are not visible anyway?). I meet my siblings in the nick of time, for no sooner had I caught my breath then the guests from the night before started to be seen meandering along the scenic path toward the docks.

After all goodbyes were made and ships sailed, we headed back toward the castle. Edmund left first storming off, kicking at any poor creature that dared to stand in his way. Lucy left shortly after, for she insisted upon stopping to complement the dress I had worn. And that left Peter and me. He turned, emotion drowning his pupils, and then he opened his mouth, "whatever happened last night, we should not speak of it, whether we ever remember or not. Let us forget and move forward," he murmured as he put out his arm, and I took it.


	2. The Colt

**Part 2**

 **NOTE:** Peter/Susan. Don't like? Not my problem. Read at your own risk. I don't own anything associated with Narnia, nor am I making any money off of this story (*sobs 'cause I'm poor*). Menstruation plot and mild swearing. You have been warned.

 **Susan's POV**

We settled again into our routines: I with my archery, they with their swordship, all with luncheon, approving new draperies and dishes, going to visit the folk of the country, sending for delegations, receiving such. All seemed perfectly fine, until nearly three moons past, when I realized something was amiss. I had had "the talk" with young Lucy shortly prior to the dinner, about what it means to be a woman. Though she was thoroughly startled, she took such news in stride, most likely just happy she wasn't dying of some horrid disease. She was taught a myriad of ways to deal with such, from my simple rag approach, to the special herbs and potions that some other creatures in Narnia had developed to mask such predicaments. It was the week past the new moon of the new year, Lucy swearing as she waddled toward our chamber pot down the hall, that I realized the problem I was in: I had missed now two moon cycles since that night. Surely not. I recounted; no, somehow this was correct. Shit.

 **Peter's POV**

With a month left until the delegation was to be sent to our demanding allies, Edmund and I were fairly confident that we could be ready for whatever they decided for the quelling of the uprising that would take place once the ground had thawed. I was about to set out toward the dining hall when my doors burst open, carrying forward a very distraught Susan. Concerned for my sister, I held out my arms, which she ran immediately to. Sobbing softly and in gasps, she struggled to make words out of the ragged breaths being pulled past her throat. I waited patiently as she contained herself enough to speak. "Susan what is it?" I queried.

"Oh, Peter, Peter! We have a predicament," Susan sobbed, not being able to quite catch her breath. I nodded for her to continue. "Peter, I have missed two moons since the dignitary dinner; I am with child, and it must be yours."

I stood frozen. I had since pieced together what had happened between us, happy to let it lay. But now there was no choice of being silent about such things- at least not much longer. I glanced down, seeing the tears streaming down her face as she stared up at me, terrified. I spoke the only words I could think of, "We will come out of this." I placed my hand on her still very flat womb, and ran my hand through her hair. We would come out of this.

 **Lucy's POV**

I am not too keen on this 'becoming a woman' problem. I do not like having to watch my every step or to sit straight, lest I hurt. I have yet to become _tide bound_ , as Susan called it, but I do not mind, because even the thought of such a thing startles me. What does she mean, anyway? Will I have to become a sailor? Is that how women get rid of the blood? I do not know how Susan has done it all these years. It is driving me mad! Edmund caught me in the hall and called me a blubbering infant. I do not wail, or blubber! My eyes have a mind of their own today, and I'm going to have to miss my fencing session because of these horrid cramps. Oh bother! I hate missing things. Instead, today I went to visit the horses. They just love when I bring them apples. Today I am bringing the new yellow kind from the recently planted orchard with seedlings from the far South.

When I reached the stables, there seemed to be a great hullabaloo- such an uproarious racket as I had never heard from the animals of Narnia. I opened the door slowly, calling out as I did so, "Hello! Good horses? What is this fuss about? Is everyone alright?" Suddenly there was a tumultuous shifting as all of the horses started to walk toward me.

"Dearest Queen, You will never guess- -" "My Valiant we have found such an odd creature- -" "Good Lucy, It has eaten my good hay! It didn't even give thanks for such a gift I was so ill prepared- -" "It doesn't talk! It can't utter a word! It has been struck mute by Aslan! - -" "Are those Apples, my good Queen? May I have- -" "Come look at it my mistress; it has no mane!- -" Such an uproar was made so that I had to plug my own ears against my friends.

"STOP! Stop. Let us speak peaceably and calmly. Master Horse, can you please tell me what all of this is about?" I gesture toward the stallion in the back of the crowd.

"My Dearest Lucy," The great dappled Friesian began, "There is a horse which we do not know in this stable. It has rudely eaten all of Miss Sugar's hay and has not said a word since it got here; indeed, I believe it cannot, for it has been struck mute by Aslan for being so unnecessarily rude at, no doubt, all times of its short life." I make my way towards the back of the stable amid whispers of 'be careful, my queen' and 'move slowly, for it is skittish'. When I come to the back of the stables, I find a small Pony, its mane and tail cropped short; in fact, it looks almost like one that was in a dream once- of a great gathering, there were many ponies there, and odd metal monsters that people were caught up in (in fact, they stood in lines to do so) – a beautiful chestnut creature, but the poor thing was scared stiff, pawing at the ground, its ears back against its head. The poor thing looked absolutely weathered, and starved half to death. I was so saddened by the sight that my eyes started to water of their own accord (bother my emotion!). The poor thing wouldn't let me near it.

"I must needs go and fetch Queen Susan, for she is gentle, and good with creatures," I proclaimed, walking backwards towards the doors. I ran the whole way back to the castle- surely Susan was at the common dinette with Edmund, and perhaps Peter, though it is possible that Peter was not hungry as of yet. I barge into the eating area, only to find just Edmund, his face full of food. "Wat's Wong Luss?" He managed through a mouth of food.

"Edmund, have you seen Susan? I need to talk to her immediately," I demand as an answer. He points out towards the gardens- that is where Susan practices with her bow. I run out of the room without so much as a backwards glance- my brother is a filthy eater, and I am queasy as is.

I hear Susan before I see her. The steady _thwack_ of arrows hitting their target lead me to my sister. "Susan, Susan!" I call out. "Susan I need your help."

 **Susan's POV**

The first I hear of Lucy is her screaming my name. She startled me to no end, making me miss my shot. _Damn_ , I thought. "What is it Lucy, not quite getting the handle on things?" I ask glancing down before burying my head in my hand (the one not holding a bow).When I glance up, she is glaring at me with indignation.

"I can handle myself just fine. There is a horse in the stables, and it cannot talk. It is hurt and scared, and it needs your help." She shot back, firing glares into my side. I sighed as I gathered my arrows and bow. I knew she would not allow this to go unbidden. In fact, she probably wouldn't let it go at all, not until it was dealt with, so after bidding her adieu I start the long trek to the stables. Alone. I didn't need my pretentious and anxious sister tagging along to startle the poor creature more than she already had. As I walk into the stable, I immediately notice something is off.

There is a smell in the place, a smell that is never in the sleeping and eating quarters of the noble horses: poo. I see the poor creature in the back of the stable. It cannot figure out how to open the paddock in order to move to open pasture. That must be where the rest are. I quickly find a castle hand to clean up the mess in the stable, and start the process of befriending the poor pony. Quickly enough it allows me to put a bridle on its head and lead it to the open pasture. Once there, I find the rest of the horses. I set the poor pony out to graze, and I went to talk to the others.

I had scarcely come up to them when they started to talking. The colt started "Gentle Queen! I see you have been able to coax the dumb beast out of the stables?" I chide the youngster- it is not proper to speak of anything in that way, let alone another horse (even if it is not of the noble Narnian variety). He was quickly turned out by his mother who came to speak with me. "What shall we do with the creature, dear queen?" she asked.

"I wish to keep it," I reply, "though all of you so graciously consent to being ridden, I do not feel it right to take such advantage of you. I believe this is a beast from the south; it has already been trained for riding, but the poor thing became lost. I wish to change my daily routine, and going for rides in the morning would be a welcome change."

"Ahhh," she responded. "Is it for your own young colt you do so?"

"What?" I blanch, "What colt?"

"The one you are with, dear one" the mare drolled. "You are a' bred, you smell of it so. When is it to be expected?"

I start, deliriously pleased I had not brought Lucy along. "My dearest mare, you are correct. Mid-Summer the babe is due, but this word cannot go out until I am ready for it to do so, not even to my siblings. Please keep my word, allow me to break this news in my own timing." I plead.

"Of course, my gentle queen," the mare consented, "none of us shall speak of it in ways for others to hear."

We make arrangements for the horse to be taught the proper mannerisms of the Narnian stables (for though the horse is dumb, it is able to learn) and I start the retraining of the horse for riding.

By my third moon I was pleased to say the pony had been retrained in my own riding habits (as well as it should, for I spent nearly every waking moment with the thing). It seemed to have been a message horse, for all the thing seemed to be able to do at first was canter or gallop, making my already queasy nature worse. Praise Aslan, I had always been a picky eater, for I did not want to give myself away too quickly. I had started to notice the bulge that would be my child, but under the many petticoats and flowey garments I wore, it would be a time yet before anyone else pieced such things together.

I would have been pleased to share such news with Peter, but scarcely a week hence had I broken the news, he was suddenly needed to lead the battle against the uprising to the North. Unlike some I knew who became depressed about such things, I knew it was for the good of all of Narnia that these rebellions be squashed for the child if nothing else, but that did not make me less somber to know such facts. What if he didn't come back to me? What if I had to bear this child completely on my own? Those thoughts plagued my dreams, and the fact that I refused to speak of such with anyone only worsened them, but the mare always insisted upon talking about "the colt" as she had so affectionately come to call my child.

 **Edmund's POV**

After much debate… and shouting… and pointing… it was decided that Peter would go to suppress the monstrous uprising in the north. I do not understand why he suddenly wanted to leave so badly. He claims it was because I was too hot-headed to lead a battle. But that never stopped him before. He even insisted upon leaving immediately- no battle plans in check, no plots drawn out; we had not even sent for a scoping of what we would be up against. Everyone around me seemed to be changing - Susan was suddenly aloof; Peter, who had always had a temper but never let it blow, had become a ticking time bomb going off at a moment's notice. Even Lucy, always so sweet and personable, had become moody and irritable, she changed her mind more than the weather (and allow me to emphasize that the weather changed _hourly)._ – And it was annoying that no one seemed to want to speak about why they were bothered so. It hurt that they had allowed me to confide and trust in them, but they refused to allow me to do such in return.

So, being as clever as I am, I hatched a plan: I would trail Susan to the stables (for she had starting riding often as of late) and see what is going on.

The next morning, I follow Susan to the stables, being sure to stay out of sight, lest she catch me being meddlesome. She is greeted by the old mare as she goes to fetch that mongrel she calls her horse. "How is the young colt, dear one?" the old dapple calls out. The comment struck me as odd, for there were no young colts with the exception of her own yearling, and none of the other horses had announced a fouling (of course, then would the question not be phrased from Susan to the mare, and not the other way around?)

"He is growing rapidly," Susan chuckled, hefting her saddle up onto the dumb beast, "I can feel him now, he must be a swordsman for all the aerobics he performs." She settled her hands to her gown, producing a hitherto unnoticed but definitely noticeable bump, a half smile on her lips.

"How do you know young colt is a he? What midwife do you go to to find such knowledge? Surely not a witch!" The old mare whinnies.

"No, just a wish of mine; it would be fitting for this first babe to be a male, heir to the Narnian throne," Susan murmured.

Impossible. Surely not. Susan? With whom? How long? Dear Aslan!

I stumble back out of the stable, unprepared for the news I had just heard.

Unfortunately, luck was not on my side, for in my hurry, I did not notice the tools lined along the wall, and I ran into a hoe, which knocked down a shovel, a pitchfork, and a wheel barrel, altogether making a very large clatter.


	3. Elk

**Part 3**

 **NOTE:** surely you know the drill by now (if not, please go back two chapters and start over). I still own nothing pertaining to The Chronicles (*shrugs because I will never become rich from fanfiction*). Please don't leave me hanging people; I updated twice today, and I believe this kind of work needs recognition. Don't let me burn out from unappreciation ;p

 **Susan's POV**

My rides had come to be my favorite part of the day. The only beings that knew of my condition were the horses (and Peter, of course, but he wasn't here), and it was a relief to not have to guard my actions. The dappled mare greeted me at the door "How is the young colt dear one?" she called out.

I felt a flutter as my baby recognized a voice. A warm feeling rose within me as I set my hand out to settle the little one, replying "He's growing rapidly. I can feel him now, he must be a swordsman for all the aerobics he performs."

I continue to settle Chestnut (for that is what I decided to name the poor pony) for our routine laughing and talking freely with the wise mare. Suddenly I hear a very loud crashing. "Oooh!" I exclaim, "What was that!?"

The horses had already went about circling toward the noise. They knew just how important it was to me that this pregnancy be kept a secret, at least for the next month until Peter came home, so we could pick names and announce the birth together. "We have an intruder," A large dun steed whickered, nosing forward a young man covered in dirt. As he brushed off his face, I realized it was none other than my own brother, come to spy on me and caught red handed. At the realization, I saw red.

"How dare you!" I cried, "How dare you come to spy on me! Do you not think I would answer you if you had any nerve and asked me?"

"You hid a child from us, Susan," he bellowed in return, "A child! How long has this been? When were you going to tell us? Surely you wouldn't leave it for dead? Would you?"

I felt tears sting my eyes. How dare he? Was he accusing me of not loving my family, for this child was more my family than he. The babe recoiled at my sudden blood pressure spike, wriggling and moving about like a snake curled in my womb. I glance down at my growing child, feeling him move. I suddenly feel the need to sit down. My anger has left me light headed, and I do not want to faint. I move to sit, and Edmund follows me, concerned. "Susan, talk with me," He pleaded.

I look up at the concern in my brother's eyes. Should I tell him? I knew immediately it was the right thing to do, but how far should I go? I didn't think I should tell him about the father just yet, but leaving out Peter wouldn't be too hard. I sat lightly on a small barrel, sighing as I patted the place beside me. This story would be tedious.

"First, you must promise me that you will not breathe a word of this to Lucy. Her sentiments are too fragile," I stare down my brother until he nods, looking down. "Good. I am three months with child. I have set up with a midwife to check on the baby. You are the only person who knows," I lie, "The father hasn't been told. I will, of course keep the child. I love it. Do not spread this around, Edmund, please. This is all I know, that and the horse rides lull the babe to a quiet state, and I can get a few hours' sleep afterwards. I am exhausted, brother, and I need to be able to trust you with the words I have spoken."

Edmund nodded again, glancing down at my growing belly, and sighing, "You realize you will not be able to hide such things much longer?" I nod, and we elapse into a silence.

 **Lucy's POV**

Edmund and Susan had stopped talking to each other. I asked Aslan every night that Peter would come home soon, for he was the glue that held the two together. The silence could be cut with a dull knife whenever the two are in a room together, but they are just as happy as ever apart. Susan had three new dresses commissioned, but that is her vanity, and I am sure Peter wouldn't mind it for her happiness. Chestnut was becoming her constant companion, and I nearly not one at all. It wounded me in a way my cordial could not heal, but if Susan needed time alone, I was more than happy to give her such. She held herself in such a royal way, I only dreamed I could grow to be as stately as she. I had grown- half a hand span since Peter had departed, and more womanly in other ways. I was no longer the flat, boxy child I had come to Narnia as, though I was nowhere near as pretty as Susan- too gangly.

Susan chided me constantly for going about in breaches (for _I was a young lady now_ ), but what else was I supposed to do? I couldn't very well fence in a dress! Riding was also much easier in breaches: no tucking or alongside-sitting needed, and dismounting was much easier. I had taken to the potion remedies of the dwarfs to help me with my problem- now it was a much shorter, easier to deal with problem. The peoples, both of Narnia and of other places had started to appraise me at dinners; I didn't like their looks, as if I were cattle to be appraised! And not even of the talking variety that I should be asked if such a thing were alright! I really missed Peter and hoped he would come home soon- he could fix it all.

 **Peter's POV**

I could smell the borders, I was so close to my home. Well, perhaps not smell. My mind was not as well rested as it needed to be, with all the worrying I had been doing. It had been nearly two months since I had left Narnia for the frigid northern wilderness. What was happening back home? Was Edmund able to take care of the foreign affairs? Would I recognize my baby sister when I got home, for she seemed to change by the day, what would two months do? And how was Susan? Were she and the child alright? Were they thriving? Had news gotten out? Oh, Aslan! Why had I ever left?

 **Susan's POV**

On the day the midwife was to come Edmund set up a hunting trip, which involved over half of the castle. I was thankful, for, while he refused to speak to me, he at least cared for us enough to keep me from being a spectacle. We met in my rooms. I knew she would recognize me, but she had sworn herself to secrecy. At the knock on my door, I took a deep breath, "Come in," I breathed, there was no turning back now.

The woman who came in was old- extremely old- with wrinkles upon wrinkles, and ears that stood in nearly a point and drooped half way to her shoulders. Suddenly I realized she was a hag-she from the mountains. "I am grateful that you came all this way for me, good woman," I nod.

"It is not every day I receive a letter sealed with the seal of a king, my Gentle Queen. How could I do otherwise?" she wheezed. The mediwoman gestured for me to lay upon the sitting couch, for there was no doubt she could never reach the top of the bed. "How far along be you? Any notion, have you?"

I count as she begins to palpate my now child swollen front. "Just past five moons, Ma'am."

She looks at me with what seems a start, her wrinkled face wrinkles (if it is even possible) further as she pulls it into a scowl. But she says no more, so I let the matter be; she will tell me if I need to know. "May I?" she asks, gesturing toward my swell. I nod my consent, thinking it funny that though she touched me all over (including some not so pleasant places) she now asks permission. Suddenly her ear sits upon the peak of my belly. I take in a breath at the sudden intrusion, but make sure not to shift much. After many awkward moments, the woman moves on. "Are you or the father aware the bairn may be two?" she shot, her eyes widening further than I thought possible, "I will know not until the birth, of course, but 'e sounds as two." As if my life needed any more worries.

 **Edmund's POV**

I could not believe I had convinced the Narnians to go on a mid-day hunt amid the middle of the rainy season. If this didn't prove their faith in their kings and queens, I didn't know what did. By near evening, we had managed to catch one somewhat large elk, of the dumb variety, and we also managed to catch Peter's party, but that was entirely by accident. They all looked beaten and bruised, but happy, though somewhat solemn as the now halved company trudged through the now swamp-like forest. Peter looked as one of the worse for wear- his less dominant arm in a sling, both eyes black, his upper lip cut and bruised. Thankfully, his horse had been able to maneuver in such a way that it encountered nary a scratch, so I didn't have to see just how well Pete's legs were doing (or not doing). "My good people," I called aloud through the drizzle, "Let us sup together before we repent the path and return to our homes."

"Nay, but we wish to travel forward good king," the reply came, "for Sir King is injured, and it is cold and wet here."

I pondered the thought. Suddenly the thought struck me: there was an inn not far from here; it may not have enough beds for the company, but at three stories, there would be at least a dry place for the weary foot soldiers. I voice such opinions as I come close to my brother. There is a thick silence until Peter holds his hand out, shortly letting it drop to his side. A sigh of relief is heard throughout the weary men. Peter and I lead the way towards the inn.

As the men settled in to the now very cramped space, Peter and I helped the staffers to see to the horses. As the job ended I turned to my brother. Checking to assert that the stable hands had left, I spoke, "All is well back home, brother."

He stared at me long before letting out the breath he didn't even realize he was holding, "Praise be."

"You know Sue…?" I trail off as he nods, becoming pale, "She had a woman's doctor come in today- the whole reason we're here; I hope the inn was able to do something with the elk we brought."

Suddenly I notice a figure in the door. A short figure, which is storming our way.

 **Lucy's POV**

As the men were settled and the elk set to roast the rest of the way, I went to find my brothers. If I found that Peter had left before I could get my hands on his arm- well, he wouldn't have to worry about his small wounds any more. I hunch my cloak over my shoulders, heading out to the stables. I had just made it to them as two strangers departed. I was about to barrel into the door when Edmund spoke, "All is well back home, brother," he grinned. I stop. Why was he being so cryptic? What was he hiding? "…She had a woman's doctor come in…" What? Now was he talking about Susan? She was the only one we left from our normal party. Was she alright? Was she sick? Oh, why did she not tell me if she was sick! I can hold back to eavesdrop no longer; I barrel into the doorway, my eyes probably making steam stand out on my head. "What are you talking about?" I demand, "Are you talking about Sue? Is something wrong?" my resolve wavers, and I go to grasp my brothers, near tears. I cannot lose my big sister.

 **Edmund's POV**

Peter gave me his best 'now you've done it' stare. What was I supposed to do now? Susan had made me swear I wouldn't tell Lucy. I had to come up with something. Now. "N-no. No, nothing is wrong with Susan. She has been having some pains that she thought were odd, so she sent for a mediwoman to ascertain that everything was as it should be….. With her…. Down….. Yeah." I blush and look away, some cover story. But Lucy takes it with a shrug.

"I came to look at Peter's arm," she stated. We shrugged as Peter sat down and struggled to untangle himself from his sling. Thankfully, it was not broken, only badly sprained. Lucy applied her elixir, and it was as good as new. Lucy skipped back to the company, and we stood there in the leaky stables, too utterly drained to do anything else.

 **Peter's POV**

I stood, looking at my brother, thanking his quickly fibbing mouth. I am exhausted, but all I want is to go home. I want to sleep in a familiar place, smell the salt of the sea through my window, and be at ease. "Edmund, Let's go," I say, as I replace my saddle on my horse, "I want to go home."


	4. waiting

**Part 4**

 **NOTE:** You know the drill. Of course, I do not own anything you recognize from any published works. Be warned: this chapter has mild sexual scenes.

 **Susan's POV**

Waiting. Waiting seemed to be all I ever did anymore. I waited on the baby; I waited on his father; I waited on my other siblings; now I was waiting on the Hag-she mediwoman to join me in the dinette. Not that she was a comfort, for I was still waiting on all the people who were supposed to be back the previous evening. No doubt the hunting party had been unsuccessful, but that wasn't the point of the hunt. Peter should be back any day, and yet no runner was sent with a word. I worried and fretted- what was going on!? Suddenly there was a loud bang as the front doors clattered closed. I jumped. Suddenly a voice called out, "Susan?"

Oh, Peter! I got up (as quickly as I could) and ran (not fast, of course) to meet my brother. He caught me up, tears in the corners of his eyes. One hand reached out to catch the tears running down my cheek, the other to touch. He reached and placing his hand on my swell, "And the child?" he fretted.

"They be well," came the wheeze. "Well, perhaps not 'they', perhaps one, but- eh," she remedied at the look of shock that crossed my brother's face.

"Who are you?" my brother growled, hand reaching for his hilt.

"Who be I?" came the indignant cry, "Who Be I? I be the mediwoman you 'ailed for, Sir Ku-hing. With your seal upon here sckhu-oll!" impatient hands reached into garments, thrusting a letter at Peter.

Affronted, the hag-she turned upon her heel and stocked out of the room, murmuring to herself.

"She is the midwife that apparently Edmund sent for; a hag-she from the mountains- she really seems to know what she's doing," I apprise.

"hurmmph," Peter grunted in reply.

 **Edmund's POV**

As I sprint up the steps I hear screeching coming from inside. Bursting forth through the doors, I come to a halt, finding a red faced Peter, his arm clasping Susan, and watching a small old woman stock out of the room. What on Earth? Who is the old midget who is traipsing about my home? And what goings on have been going between Peter and Susan?

I realize the hobgoblin of a witch must be the mediwoman from the mountains, but this gives me no insight towards Peter or Susan. Now, it was an understatement that they had always been close- some would say closer than two siblings had any right to be- but they had always been close, especially since coming to Narnia and being thrust into leadership. But we were all close, but Susan would never allow either Lucy or me to stand with her in such a way. Just how close had they actually become? Did I even want to know?

By the time I pulled myself out of my musings, they were gone, and the opportunity to ask had passed; I guess I would never know.

 **Lucy's POV**

I awoke at the inn to find that I had been royally duped. Literally. My brothers, the kings, had duped me, and left me to meander home with the caravan. To say I was irate was an understatement. Did they have so little common decency that they could not wake me and say, 'Lucy, get on the horse,'? No, but instead they had hurried home to my, no doubt, worried sister who needed me to comfort her. Because what comfort could they possibly give? Boys!

So I rode, my arse chapped from riding in a wet saddle, barely able to see thirty paces in front of me for fog and rain, altogether miserable. No one in this group wanted to speak. Half of them weren't even awake, and so I was left to fume to myself, which only made me angrier. As soon as we were in familiar grounds, my horse spurred itself to a sprint, no doubt as ready to be out of this deluge as I was. I ran from the stables to the castle –not that it mattered, for the rain drenched me to the skin anyway- and burst through the door and up the stairs, only to be met with an astounding sight.

"Susan?!" I yelped.

 **Susan's POV**

Oh! I felt so good right now! How did I never do such things before! Chalk it up to hormones or what have you, I didn't ever want to leave.

Peter and I had decided to sup in my sitting room. We had sent the servants away, and were quietly nibbling on sandwiches, discussing names, and christenings, slowly inching closer together until I suddenly noticed his eyes- because they were inches from my own. He kissed me. And I let him. Ohhhhh, it was so nice to be noticed! I kissed back, harder, groans emitting from deep within. I shift, sitting on his lap, sideways, and I feel his hand on my upper thigh. Suddenly I was wet. The back of my mind asked if I had peed- it wouldn't be the first time this month, for the baby bore down upon my bladder- but his hand found its way under my petticoats, leaving no room for further thought. Oh! His fingers slipped into my secret places, fodling and caressing crevasses that had never seen the light of day. I panted and whimpered, my hips moving of their own accord, when suddenly I hear a noise, and I freeze.

"Susan?!" a voice yelps. Suddenly I register my sister's presence. I am aghast. Shit! What had she stumbled upon? I quickly shift as Peter quickly removes his hand. What, oh what, was I to do?!

"Yes, Lucy?" I answer, my face flushed, not only from embarrassment, I'm sure.

"Why are you sitting on Peter's lap? I thought, as Ladies, we were too old to sit on people's laps? And secrets are bad, so you shouldn't whisper. And kissing is nasty! Do you even know what he puts in his mouth?" she huffed, "I'm going to go find something dry to put on, because, since you left me at the inn I am soaked, good day!"

I let out a sigh of relief. Thank heavens Lucy was such an innocent!

 **Edmund's POV**

As I meander down the stairs, I am met by a sopping wet Lucy running up them. She looks up and notices me, taking in a deep breath. Oh, boy; here we go.

"Edmund! You will never guess what I stumbled upon!" she exclaimed. "You see I was running from the stables to the castle, because you left me to be rained upon with the entire company, and I was soaked through with rain water and cold to the bone- positively shivering- and I ran up the stairs, but I ran first into Susan's sitting room, for I had stashed a dress in her pine-box, but instead I saw Peter- he was in her sitting room! Can you believe that? - And Susan was there too… And… And they kissed so long I thought they were going to die, and Susan was telling him secrets upon his ear that made him smile, and Susan has grown very round on the two days since the hunt," the girl gushed, holding her hands out to show me just how pronounced Susan's child swell had become (or had been, but now perhaps she was not wearing layers so as to hide it).

"That's nice, Lucy," I dismiss. Thankfully, she scowls and walks away. I wait until she rounds the next flight before I make my way down toward the sitting room, ready to confront the things that had fell together in the last few moments. I take a deep breath, my fist moments away from pounding on the door. I couldn't believe that he had hid such things from me. My own brother! And sister! The babe was conceived between the two. Heir of Narnia, more like double-heir. Now would I be the only one to perform a marriage alliance, if need be, to secure allies? Surely no one would marry either after such disgrace. I Growl, burying my fist into the wood. "Peter, Open this door! Let me in, I say!"

 **Peter's POV**

We sit startled. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, but when such sins are committed, I suppose it is was up to Aslan how to punish them. Thankfully no one was hurt. Susan, starts to shift- - she felt so good sitting there I didn't want it to end- - "Peter, help me up, I have to use the chamber pot. Now."

Well, there goes what stolen pleasure we had found. I guess I would have to rid myself of my arousal. As Susan bustled toward the other room, a loud knock came on the door. The muffled demand reached my ears Peter, open this door! Let me in, I say! I stand and go unlock the door. "What are you blabbering about Ed?"

"You know very well what I am blabbering about, father. What in tarnation, Peter?" Edmund fumed, "And in front of Lucy; praise be the child knows nothing, but this cannot stay a secret. What will you say? Oh, look at this lovely baby I found in the orchard? No I haven't the slightest why it has our blue eyes? Or would you make Susan take your fall? Grow up, Peter; you have to face your consequences!"

I felt affronted by his accusations. I was not shrinking back from my responsibilities! Was I not sitting here facing my consequences? We were here deciding what would be of the child. Of course it would be ours, proclaimed so: heir of the Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea, the Lord of Cair Paravel, the Emperor of the Lone Islands, High King and Lord of Narnia. We would ascertain the babe had every luxury afforded to it, the only question now was whether or not we three would be burned by the people for our transgressions.

Susan came in looking startled by the sight before her. I look at the mistrust in her eyes with dismay. These last few months must have been hard on her, but I would find a way to fix it all.


	5. Announcements

**Part 5**

 **NOTE:** And, thank you _EdmundPevensie for evermore_ for reviewing! I do believe it spurs me to write a little more. Sorry this one is a little shorter, but yay for a new installment! Alright, the story, I know...

 **Susan's POV**

I made my way to the chamber pot, shuffling forward in half steps, trembling. This was too close for comfort. We could not go on like this. We had to announce the birth; no more waiting. I had just been about to voice my opinions on names when everything started. Oh! How it made my heart flutter to think about it! (Or was that just gas?) By the time I made my way back to the room (after changing the first three petticoats; drat this pregnancy!) I was met with glaring silence. Edmund and Peter were having a stare down. "Nice of you to join us," Peter commented, patting the divan beside him. I rushed over, sitting down gingerly.

"Edmund," I greeted. He in turn looked down and away. This was not going to be a pleasant meeting.

"You could have warned me," he pouted, "Said something, anything! Peter! You! Susan?"

He looked at me with concern as tears streamed from my eyes.

"We were going to tell you, Ed; we really were," I sniveled, trying to regain my composure.

"So," Peter steered, "What was that about names?"

"Never mind names!" I raved, "I cannot try to hide this any longer! Peter we have to announce this; if not to the world, then to our own people, at least!"

We sat in the encompassing silence thereafter, pondering, perhaps praying. How would we proceed?

 **Peter's POV**

I had many ideas for the announcement. At just past five moons, we could still play this as 'playing safe' against the possibility of miscarriage. A ball! A Grand Ball! But Susan would never go for that. A formal dinner! Ha! Going this route (the route of impossibilities) we could also hand draw every creature in Narnia a scroll announcement and place it on their door stoop! Oh, what was to be done?

Well, the first thing to be done was to tell Lucy; we couldn't very well tell the entire country before her. She would be terribly offended, so that very evening at dinner we decided to tell her. Aslan help us!

Dinner was going smoothly. The plates were set out and the kitchen workers scurrying to be gone (so as "not to intrude upon the privacy of the Kings and Queens"). Luck was on our side: the meal served was Lucy's favorite. Edmund ate like a horse, as always, but I noticed Susan was too nervous to eat. Lucy noticed too. "Susan, is the food not good?"

"It smells wonderful, Luc, but I am feeling a bit too unsettled to eat at the moment," Susan eased her way in.

"I have a potion for that," the girl quipped.

"A potion!" I engage, "Whoever from?"

"The dwarf women," the youngling gushed, "They make all of my potions for…" she trailed off.

"For…?" I urge.

"formyuntidedmooncycles," The girl whispers. I glance at Susan, only to see her eyes widened. Suddenly Lucy jumps up and runs from the table, her coat tails flying out behind her. I jump up to follow her, but Susan motions for me to sit down, "I believe this is a talk she and I need to have alone," she dictates, a small worry furrow in her brow.

 **Susan's POV**

I tarry behind, not quite losing my sister in the halls but giving her space as well. This was not something to be rushed. I loose myself in my own thoughts, while tracking my sister's distraught movements, feeling for the baby's kicks, counting the days until I met him (… or her… I didn't honestly know), debating just how to break the news. I followed behind Lucy as she ran directly to her rooms. I waited a few moments before I went to the door, knocking quietly. "Lucy," I beseech, "Please let me in?"

I hear a quiet click as the door glides open. Letting out a sigh, I trudge through the door, distended womb first. Luckily, Lucy had already turned her back and was moving away. Well, perhaps not so _luckily_ for she shortly burst into tears. "I don't know what is wrong with me, Susan! Am I a dwarf?" She sobbed.

I pity my sister; why did she never come to me with her fears? "Of course you are not a dwarf, Lucy! Come, sit with me; I have much to tell you," I assure. She rushed over to my side, throwing her hands around my neck, and coming side-to-foot with the babe. Startled, she lurched back. Questions lurked in her puffy eyes, but I waved them away. "Lucy…" I begin, "There is nothing wrong with your moon cycles. Being moderately untided is not uncommon. Some creatures go three moons without a tide!" I boggle, and she giggles, curling into me, "You are not a dwarf, or an elf, or a hag-she or a satyr!" I assure her, "You are just as human as I. And after my first moon, do you know how long it was before I got another?"

"How long?"

" _Three moons_!" I burst, and she laughed- a full Lucy laugh. "Better?"

She nodded. "Now…" she stretched, her eyes wide, "What hit me from within you? Are you alright Susan?"

I nod, tears springing to my eyes (Drat these hormones!). She wipes them away as I take a deep breath. "You know how I told you that moon cycles allowed females to conceive?" she nodded her eyes wide.

"Did The Moon decide that you should have a Narnian child, Susan?" she whimpered, holding to my hand.

I resisted the urge to laugh (for plainly this wasn't funny), "No, Lucy. I decided to have a child, not the moon," I smiled, "Now you don't need to know how, but sometimes when two creatures love each other very much, they decide they need a baby, so the couple tell the moon, and it puts child seeds into the female so it will grow in that special place a body makes for children."

"Oh, Ok," she trusted. "So you and Peter told the moon that Narnia needed a baby?"

My head hit the cushion behind me. Who told her the father was Peter?

"And," she drawled, "I know that you asked Peter to go tell the moon with you because you said you have to love the other very much- and you love nobody more than Peter. Surely the moon would be pleased to give the Mother and Father of Narnia their own child?… Aaand you kissed him in your sitting room, so that proves you love Peter!"

Yeah, _kissed him_ in the sitting room. We head back to the table, for I was suddenly famished.

 **Peter's POV**

As the girls come back to the dining room, happy as ever, praise be, Susan brushes by my ear. "I know what the announcement should be," she croons. I glance toward Lucy and back. She rolls her eyes, circling her hand impatiently while she eased down beside me. "What?" I mutter back, roll in hand.

"Yes, what?" Edmund snides.

"To announce the child, we should have a celebration. Say for the return of our King, and defeat of the uprising?" She smiled.

"I want to help with the decorations!" Lucy chimed.

So, we sent word to all corners of the kingdom- there was to be a celebration of our victory over the uprising in the Northern Wilderness, not three days thence.

The castle was a bustle; it seemed there was no time to sleep during the short time between the announcement and the celebration. Susan, who, thankfully, had overcome her own exhaustion, was out and about, stirring rumors in her wake. She still went every morning to the stables and on her horse ride, but she no longer slept directly after the walk, and she no longer hid under her many layers of petticoats. Suddenly, the day was upon us.

It was decided that the announcement would be made from the balcony, the people meandering below (At least this way we had a chance to get away if they decided to burn us). When twilight came, the trumpet was blown, the decree made.

I sighed with relief as cheers erupted from the crowd. It seemed they, like Lucy, were just happy about the child and were not too concerned with how it came to be. I saw the liberation in Susan's eyes as the people started chanting, "Long live Queen Susan! Long live King Peter! Long live the heir of Narnia!"

In the wake of the announcement, we were joyous. All there was left to do now was wait upon the birth.


	6. Searching

**Part 6**

 **NOTE:** You know the drill. Of course, I do not own anything you recognize from any published works. Be warned: graphic scenes.

 **Susan's POV**

"How is the young colt, dear one?" the old mare greets me as she has done for the last six months.

"He is growing restless; I do not believe the birth can wait much longer," I reply.

"If he refuses to come, child, go out to the birthing field. The aromas there are relaxing and they help call the youngling," she guaranteed.

"Not yet, sadly I have a moon still before the babe is to be brought forth," I sigh, reminding her that human children take around 9 moons to be ready for their outside life.

After walking Chestnut over to the standing stool of the dwarfs (for my legs would move no further than this) we start on our way. My normal routine leads me around the south side of the castle, across the fords of Beruna, and out into the fields beyond. The view is so relaxing, with the _whoosh_ of the ocean waves sounding in my ears and the smell of the salt wafting past my nose. I relax, laying upon the grass for a time before starting my journey home. Suddenly there came upon me a horde of creatures!

"Why are you here?" I foolishly ask, for it was all too obvious they were here for me, as the dumb beast had ran away and left me alone.

"We're here for the babe," a snarl from behind me growled, suddenly a mask went over my head, and I was swept up.

"Let Me Go!" I shriek, "Please, don't hurt my child! Leave me alone! Just let me go," I moan. There were dark laughs, and suddenly I knew no more.

I awoke in the dark, cold and uncertain of where I was. It smelled of mildew and rot. I vomit, my head spinning like a top. I was unclothed. Had I become drunk during the night? Did I wander into the underbelly of the castle? No, no I was with child. I would not have allowed myself to become drunk. I reach down to pat my swell, but suddenly light floods into the place, and I recoil, bumping my head as I do so.

"Look what's awake," the snare came, "good; I thought I was going to have to wait to see your reaction!"

Now I was near panic. Who was this person who was sauntering towards me? And what did he want with me? Where was I? What is happening?

Abruptly there was a pressure upon my entrance. The stench of the creature towering over me was overwhelming. I tried not to vomit again. Suddenly I wanted to scream as he pushed inside me, but my mouth had been covered, gagged with a putrid cloth. He had his way with me leaving me in tears. I cried and tried to curl in on my swell as such ghastly doings came to a close, but my legs were yanked taunt, my arms tied behind my head.

Suddenly there was a white hot flash of pain. I hear a screech pass my lips through the gag. Oh the pain! Was I on fire? I didn't think so, but maybe only half my body was on fire. Suddenly I hear a squeal, a shriek. Two. Two new lives brought violently into this world. My baby! My babies, for, indeed, there were two. Two red blobs of flesh squalled in the air, wriggling their tiny fists, and then all was black again.

 **Peter's POV**

I was growing restless. Susan was never gone this long. Did the pregnancy finally go to her head? Had she become lost? Should I go look for her? Would she be offended if I did so? Overriding my apprehensions, I pack my bag and leave to look for Susan.

The first place I went was the stable. If anyone knew anything it was that wise mare Sue always talked to. "Excuse me," I call out as the stable door creaked open, "Has anyone seen Susan?"

"She isn't back yet," one of the newer horses answered.

Worried, I look around for the mare. I didn't see her. Would any of the horses know where Susan went? What if I was too late? What if they refused to help? Never since I came to Narnia had I felt so helpless. My body slumped down in the dirt; my mind couldn't have kept it up anyway, for it was in distress.

Suddenly I felt like sobbing. Tears sprang to my eyes as I buried my head under my arms. I had lost. I had lost her and my child- my joy. Why was I even here? I should be out searching for her. With such thoughts, I sprinted back to the castle. I ran straight to the hunting dog quarters; someone would help me find my queen (please, anyone?).

"Peter, Peter!" came the sudden cry. I looked up to see Lucy flinging herself towards me. "Peter, where are you going? Where is Susan?"

I look at the girl, whose only concern is others, who, no doubt, is reading the sorrow I conceal in my soul. "I don't know," I respond, trying with all my might to not allow my words to be sobbed, "I am going to go look for her."

"I want to go look for Susan," the girl demanded, stamping her feet. I shook my head, and her countenance fell; she knew this was something I had to do alone. We walked back in stiff but companionable silence, hounds lolling beside me, as I walked back to the stables. If I were going to catch a horse, I would need one.

As I neared the gate, I heard a ruckus such as I had never heard before. Did horses scream like banshees? I didn't know, but that is what it sounded like. Suddenly I see Chestnut's rearing head, but there is no Susan to be seen. I rush in, only to see that the entire stable is in an uproar. "Quiet," I yell, "QUIET! What is going on? Where is Susan?"

"Susan has been kidnapped," The old mare replied, "she was taken by dark creatures,"

"Which way?" I urgently asked.

"We do not know," the old mare moaned, "He left without asserting their direction."

Suddenly my emotions were angry- why was I angry at a dumb, nonspeaking horse? - "I need a steed," I demand.

"I'll go!" a youngling quips.

"No," the old mare insisted, "I shall go."

I saddled the horse, gathering things as I went, when suddenly there was a weight by my side. I looked down to see Lucy's cordial, _for good luck_ , a note attached to the strap said.

The dumb horse had circled back around completing his route and wasting precious time. It had been nearly an hour since Susan was kidnapped when we found her scent. It was masked and buried in stench, but the stench stayed with her scent, so it was that much easier to track. We had been following for nearly an hour when suddenly the path split. Left or right? We chose the broader left path, racing forward. After a number of miles, one of Narnian hounds suddenly halted. "We have the wrong trail," it barked.

Confusion broke forth as the hounds took sides- the one saying they had the wrong trail, and those of their number who said this was the right trail and those who said otherwise were plants of the enemy. Just as a great battle was about to sound between the two factions, a beagle suddenly burst out of the bushes, holding a cloth larger than the dog itself in its mouth. He dropped it between the divisions, and backed away. Suddenly the dogs were on the cloth, smelling it, and becoming more agitated by the second.

"They played us!" one growled.

"They stole the queens clothing!" another whimpered.

"They shall pay!" another howled.

The howl was caught up by the rest of the hounds, and they suddenly took off full tilt back down the path way. The old mare spurred herself into a full sprint to keep up with the dogs, froth flying from her mouth. The path blurred as we surged forward to find my beloved.

The closer we came, the more certain it was that this was the right trail. The stench of the place was astounding. The dogs whimpered and whined, but trudged forward. Down we ran, into the belly of the Earth to the only sweet smelling thing that was here: Susan.

We found Susan laid out in the dirt in the underbelly of the ruins. I was appalled at the sight I found: a beaten bloody body, naked and marred and bleeding. The blood was everywhere. Quickly I ran to her side, searching for a pulse. After what seemed like an eon, it was there- one beat…. Two- she was alive! I quickly pull Lucy's _good luck charm_ from my side. I popped it open, pouring one drop, two for good measure, into her gaping mouth. I waited with baited breath. Suddenly she gasped in, croaking the words, "my babies, where are they going with my babies?" And then she was crying, sobbing inconsolably. It was then that I suddenly realized: she had been hacked open, left to die. I looked down at her now healed wound. The darkened slash of flesh would mar her forever.

"I will find them Susan, stay here," I demand as I sprint up the stairs.

When I find my way to the first floor again, I open my ears and listen. There! The whining wail of an infant assaulted my ears. Sneaking to my right, I stumble upon what I'm looking for. In the room lie two bundles and an ogre sat beside the crude crib ( _seriously, an ogre to take care of my children?_ ). I let out a huff. Suddenly the ogre was up. It grabbed my children and ran. I quickly took my throwing knife out of my boot. It landed with a _thwak_ , embedding itself in the ogre's leg. As it fell, a baby went flying from its arm, gliding across the floor.

Enraged, I pull my sword and charge. The ogre is already up, limping forward, the second babe forgotten on the floor. He is crying, arms flailing. I stoop down as I pass, scooping up the infant and tucking him into my chain mail. I ran, left arm around the babe. I trudged after the ogre, but even with the knife in the back of its leg, it ran too quickly.

It was met by a leopard who took the babe, holding it by the scruff of the blanket, and it ran. I tried to catch it, but the cat was just too fast, and soon enough it was lost. Grieving, I traced my path back to the underbelly of the ruin. I came across the troll as I backtracked, and it laughed. Its hacking wheeze angered me more than ever, and I took out my sword, and thrust it into the beast and took it out and thrust it again. Over and over I hit the creature, long after its wheeze became a gurgle and fell silent. I hacked at the ogre until all that was left in me was sorrow.

I had lost one of my children. I had no one to help me find him, for he had touched nothing, left nothing. Utterly stricken, blood splattering my face, I pull my now only child out of the chainmail burrow I had buried him in. I looked down at the babe; he was so small. He was wailing something fierce, fists flying, mouth searching, no doubt half starved, but there was nothing I could do for him; I only hoped his mother could do more.

I wandered half dazed back down the abandoned corridors. When I came into view of Susan and the old mare, I found them speaking together.

"…-kling helps bring forth," the mare's sentence ended abruptly as she noticed the squalling infant, and then me, for I carried the wriggling bundle. "Don't just stand there," she insisted, "bring your queen the babe." The mare cocked her head, impatient.

Susan looked at me with questioning eyes. No. I shake my head. She nods, looking down. I place the child gently in her arms. He squirms, searching for the milk he smells. _Pop_ , the small noise is heard as the babe latches on. "Colt," she whispers.

"What?" I ask.

"I want to name the baby Colt," she responded, looking down into his concentrating face.

 **A/N:** I know, I am horrible- but it's for the good of the plot line, it's for the good of the plot line (and no, I will not tell you what that is).


	7. Pride and Joy

**Part 7**

 **A/N: This story is not abandoned! I repeat it is not abandoned! College is just hard...**

 **Lucy's POV**

Peter found Susan. I knew he would! He brought her back before the day had ended. She must have fallen hard from her horse, for she had many bruises. The Moon brought Susan her baby! It is a boy, they say- "Prince Colt". He isn't very big.

I think Susan is constipated. That is what it sounds like. The hag woman took her to a part of the castle I am not allowed in, and the noises Susan made sounded like she was badly constipated. I am sorry she is sick. When I was younger, I remember being constipated for three days. Going a-bowel was horribly uncomfortable.

Peter is great at being father to Prince Colt. He changes him and plays with him and burps him and talks with him and even tries to sing to him- he isn't very good at that. He says he wishes he could do more. What more could he do? It isn't like he could feed Colt! The Moon gives that duty especially to the baby's new mummy, at least that is what the satyrs say. That is why women who are matured to have children are given breasts.

Susan is very tired; I guess that being lost can do that. I would be worried if I were lost. All she wants to do right now is sleep and feed the baby, but I think that is more because she must do that; she'd probably just sleep if she could. Everyone tells me I have to be super quiet around her rooms so I don't wake her or the baby. But- if I can say such secrets to you- I don't listen to them. Sometimes, when young Colt is whimpering, I sneak in and sing to him. I am a much better singer than Peter.

It's kind of boring having a new baby in the castle. Sometimes people who help us here bring their children, but they can move about and laugh; I like to take them up and tell them stories. All my new nephew wants to do right now is eat and sleep. Sometimes he gurgles and makes noises, but then he has probably dirtied his clout.

Only yesterday Peter swore me to secrecy and asked my opinion on a gift for Susan and Colt- for the proclamation ceremony. It was made to offset the beautiful purple gown she had made a couple months ago- a beautiful embroidered cloth made of a rich cream fabric for holding the prince.

He said it's for "Discretion's sake." Who is that anyway?

 **Edmund's POV**

I am still cross about this child and how it came to be: don't let my quietness fool you, but it _is_ much easier being angry when there isn't an innocent face staring back at you. It isn't like I don't know that this child is a bastard. But he was claimed, and that by a king. Could I really keep myself angry at a child for its parent's misdoings? After all, were there not dukes and kings- even of England- who were borne of bastardy? Some would even put Christ in such a category. Yes, I remembered England. How could I forget my own childhood?

Peter had come to me shortly after returning home. While Susan was delivering the afterbirth, my brother bashed in my door- or at least he would have, had I not been opening the thing. He was in tears. He sobbed into my shoulder, crying for the loss of a child, for the inability to retake him, for Susan, for fear. And I held him- honestly, what else could I do? - patting his back until he was quieted. "Peter, this is what you must do," I demand, "Forget the child. Don't look at me like that- I know. In public, you must forget the child. Pretend he never was. Colt is your pride and joy. But when the doors are closed, the public gone, deal with your grief before it consumes you."

I had never seen my brother so solemn. He went through the motions of kingship- held court, led drills, made decisions of all sorts- but you could see behind his eyes: he wasn't in any of it. The only times when Peter came to life were when he held Colt. The boy firmly grasped his father's soul in his little hands. Susan was joyous for the baby. You could almost say she had forgotten the other, but he was there in her eyes, in the way her mouth turned down slightly at the corners when she relaxed, in the tears brushed away, hardly seen. But we survived.

We didn't tell Lucy about the other babe. She was too passionate to deal with such loss. We didn't tell the public either. They were in such joy about the ceremony. There was no need to introduce such grief into such jubilation.

At the end of the month came the celebration. It was almost humorous to see the thinly veiled emotional rifts that separated the few of us from the rest. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver knew. Susan had confided in Mrs. Beaver, who of course told Mr. Beaver, but they were good at keeping secrets to themselves. There was a beautiful banquet served from platters in the Throne Room. Royals from the world over came. Places we had never heard of showed up, no doubt, to gawk at my nephew and siblings, many of the men to gawk solely at my sisters, trying their damnest to catch sight of my sisters breasts when she fed the babe. It made my blood boil. But, none the less, they greeted the High King and Queen with respect, congratulating them on the birth. And I guess I could respect that.

Colt's portrait hung over the ceremony, a bigger than life canvas capturing every feature of the babe. He, of course, had our blue eyes. So far he had Susan's and my pale complexion, but I do believe that as he gets more sun he will weather more towards Peters golden tan. His head was covered in a beautiful flaxen mop- right from birth he had a head of hair- that glints gold in the sun, especially when he turns his head.

Time passed in a blur as the lad grew. Sitting, crawling, walking, and running, he hit all milestones full tilt. Much to Susan's distress, Colt started lessons to fence and parry before he was able to control his own movements. His hair still shone in the sun, his eyes glinting in the light. Much as I tried in the beginning, how could I shun this little ball of light? I loved my nephew. He was family.

At the age of three, I taught Colt how to ride- a Narnian dwarf-pony eagerly stepped forward to become the young prince's steed. He loved stories about the odd things in the land of England I told him before bed. He was the nation's pride and joy, protected and loved at all costs. Colt was sharp and easily picked up on many of the things in Royal life (though his table manners left something to be desired).

He was taught battle strategy, reading, writing, Calormenian, diplomacy, and arithmetic as his schooling. Colt loved to visit the Narnians- and rightly so, for they adored him. He loved to joke with the centaurs and dance with the satyrs. He swam with the nymphs and apprenticed himself to a dwarf at the age of seven (much to his mother's dismay). Colt was a natural swords maker who took pleasure in the work he was given.

Three years later Queen Susan finally (after many stalls and refusals) decided to concede and visit Calormenia to, prayerfully, reject Prince Rabadash's proposal. The barbarian has always been despicable towards Susan, even going so far so as to in his last letter insinuate that my sister is nothing but the whore who will bear heirs for Calormenia- "As you have already done for Narnia,"! He sickens me, and I am glad that Prince Colt is in the Northern Wilderness with Peter- I loathe to see how they will react to this ass's irreconcilable demands.


	8. The End

**Part 8**

 **Edmund's POV**

For the last week we have been entertaining the young prince, Corin of Archenland. He was saddened to hear that young prince Colt was away, but soon he was in good spirits to hear that he would soon be joining us to venture to Calormenia. The dank in the air could almost be tasted as the ship was loaded for our voyage; it was as if the very weather was mourning our leaving. The very land of Narnia bemoaned the thought of an alliance between servants of Tash and Aslan, but if total war was to be avoided, this situation would have to be dealt with fruitfully.

I was at a loss for how this would be done, for this prince Rabadash was too thickheaded to take any hints. He didn't care that he was nearly half Susan's age, or that the things he did- especially a few months ago when we entertained him here and he tried to enter Susan's chambers, always insisted upon sitting to her left, and even tried to kiss her upon the cheek- were unacceptable and disgraceful. He constantly disrespected Narnia, both the entirety of the royal court and the peoples of the land. But Narnia could not afford two different war fronts.

I paced the whole voyage. I just couldn't stay still. I have never been sea sick, but my nerves have given me my closest encounter thus far. The ass, his father, and the entire court met us at the docks. He greeted us with no courtesy, no nod, no handshake. The disrespectful little pomp! Could he not see that this was no way to become a friend of Narnia?

His father, the king, extended invitation to join him for a midafternoon meal. For fear of this king sending his men to cut us to bits before we even had time to step foot onto the land, we begrudgingly accepted. The pretentious court sauntered back to their litters, where it took as many as six servants to hold them each up in the air, calling out as a litter stumbled down the path, "Make Way, Make Way!" I was appalled. When offered a litter, I flatly refused. I would rather walk through the dung than elevate myself to such a place! What did these people think they were? Gods? Never the less, we followed them to the palace, receiving many odd and curious looks as we went along.

I didn't believe things could become any worse, but when we entered oh, how much more dreadful it became! Everything on the tables, save for the figs and nuts and cheeses, was from the sea. Great clams the size of your fist sat piled high on platters. Swordfish with their heads still attached were swimming on beds of jumbo shrimp on serving dishes so large that three men had to carry one. There was octopi and squid, wrapped in sea weed, and the stench of it all mingled together and turned my stomach. There was no true fish, and there were certainly no red meats or fowls. Did this prince not think at all about where the woman he was trying his worst to win the heart of came from? Did he know Susan at all? Was he planning on starving my sister until she said 'yes'? We stared at each other in horror until the king gestured for us to sit among the royals at the royal rug throw.

I did not realize how far into the pits I had been cast until I looked about at the sons of the king, and stared back into my own face. Well, with the exception of his hair. To the king's left side sat his 'second son' (for Rabadash had insisted upon sitting near us); the child, I would swear was the infant stolen all those years ago by servants of Jadis. At any rate, this boy wasn't a Calormenian. He was far too fair skinned, with the bluest eyes that could be had. The boy sat staring at us, confused. No doubt, he wondered, as I did, why he and I looked as kin while his family did not.

Susan noticed as well. It is a wonder that she did no more than balk when she saw the boy, mouthing her owns name as she sat. Somehow she managed not to sob. I do not believe I have ever been so entertained, nor Rabadash has ever been so put out, as when he tried with all of his sixteen years to win my sister's heart while the entirety of her soul reached out to the boy, a prince who sat in the wrong court.

I filled my stomach on pine nuts, sea weed, and figs. It was not nearly as hard as you think, for the first half of my gut was brimming with bile that threatened to make an appearance. Somehow, by the grace of Aslan, I was able to keep the little food I put into my stomach in my stomach. Prince Corin was not so lucky. Thankfully our ship was laden with many supplies. From that time, we tried our best to stay away from the courts of Calormenia.

 **Susan's POV**

I would have never thought my heart could break more than it already has. When I lost my child, I lost part of my heart. To have it thrust within reach when I had given it up for dead was nearly unbearable. The fool who sat beside me blabbered on for what seemed years. Could this boy not see that I had no interest in what he has to say? That I never had any interest? Oh, Aslan! Why had I ever given him a glance? It is harder than you think to keep at bay a love sick puppy. The prince just does not know when to give up.

The king insisted I take a chamber near the castle. I guess they do not want us slipping away in the middle of the night. From the vantage of a mere hundred paces to my dwelling, Rabadash had made it his habit to come knocking at my door. Thrice he has invited me to dine with him. Thrice I have refused. The fourth time I do believe I shall have no choice but to accept. How I wish to go home! He is becoming more and more adverse. I do not want to make a fool of the crowned prince in his own court, but something must be done. I cannot allow this boy to keep me here. He has already threatened to make me his wife no matter what the cost. I would die before I allowed myself to be raped again.

I took his fourth invitation in hopes that I might catch glimpse of my son. This dinner I took reign of the conversation, for this child does not know how to speak. I steered him to talk about his family, and his siblings (for I am quite tired about hearing of _'the great Tash, may he live forever.'_ It is making me sick!).

My son came to them by the way of the great forest, no doubt brought by the awful beasts that stole him in the first place. He was raised as a 'miracle sent by Tash'. My poor baby thinks of me as an enemy. He, no doubt hates Narnia, and will never come home. After the dinner, I reentered the chambers we had been given, only to find out that Prince Corin had had a very eventful day. He had left and become very lost, he had beat three people, only to be mistaken for a run away, and the run away for him. We made a plan that very night, and made haste to leave, away and To Narnia!

 **Colt's POV**

A year after the great debacle with Prince Rabadash, My parents disappeared. Never has there been such mourning in all of Narnia. Well, perhaps that is an exaggeration, but never have _I_ seen such mourning in all of Narnia. My coronation was solemn. Thanks be to Aslan I have those around me who understand how court works; I cannot say I will ever be more than a humble knight and swords-maker no matter how many expectations my father had. I love him, and I know he loves me, but I am not ready to try to rule. I am not fit. I shall try to carry on the legacy of my father. Even the words, 'I am only a child,' cannot save me, for what were my family but children when they came to be in Narnia? There are rumors of a country across the mountains who wish to overtake Narnia, and it startles me. I do not know what to do. I wish Father and Momma and Uncle Ed and Aunt Lucy would come back home, but I am afraid they are gone.

Mr. Tumnus is helping me to learn how to hold court and run drills. I am not very good at any of it, but the people of Narnia are gracious. By the fall, the tale is told we shall have Armies at our doors! Oh, Aslan! Whatever shall I do?

 **Aslan's POV**

Prince Colt was shortly over run by his own brother from Calormenia. He was struck down and his body buried in the tomb erected for the Pevensie children. This second son of Adam took his brother's place on his father's throne. So far removed from his heart was curiosity that though he hesitated to slay his own image, such an impulse was short lived. Never has there been such calamity in all of Narnia. Caspian the Conquer conquered his brother Colt. He lived and produced heirs to the end of the generations of the Kings of Narnia. But this is a tale for another time, perhaps another place. It is sufficient to know that Prince Colt was gathered to my country. He, after their time, was reunited with his father, aunt, and uncle. We wait with baited breath for our Gentle Queen. Perhaps with time she will realize her foolishness and return before time catches her.


End file.
